Dimya Drabbles: Based on 45 OTP Prompts
by Jazzy Euphonium
Summary: Anya and Dmitry stories based on 45 OTP Prompts from Tumblr. Stories range from post-canon to AU with a diversity of genres.
1. Nobody in the world has hands this soft

**_1\. "Nobody in the world has hands this soft."_**

"Dima!" Anya giggly exclaimed, "what are you doing?"

Currently, Dmitry and Anya were enjoying a lazy afternoon on the couch. Dmitry's head was resting on Anya's lap as she read a book.

"Nothing," he replied nonchalantly.

However, Dmitry knew exactly what he was doing. One of his favorite things was to hold Anya's petite hands in his own. Both of hers were holding onto the book she was reading, so he planned to fix that. He playfully brushed his hand against one of hers until the ticklish sensation made her let go. Slightly annoyed by his pestering, she instead lightly swatted his hand away. Dmitry turned his head and pouted at Anya.

"Men are such babies," she said rolling her eyes.

"What? Can't a husband hold his wife's hand?"

Putting her book down, Anya raised an eyebrow, looked at Dmitry and sighed. "Dmitry, if you wanted to hold my hand, all you had to do was ask."

"I know, but what's romantic about that?" he asked, giving her a charming smile.

"Sometimes I need to remind myself why I married you," Anya joked before placing her hand in his, "I don't know why you like holding my hand, it's clammy and full of callouses."

"Nonsense," Dmitry retorted, "nobody in the world has hands this soft."

He then threaded his fingers through hers and kissed the back of her hand. Setting her book aside, Anya leaned down to place a gentle kiss on his forehead.

"I love you."

"I know," Dmitry responded with a cocky smile on his face. This quickly turned into a frown once he saw Anya grab the book to hit him in the shoulder.

"Ow! Anya!" Dmitry exaggerated the amount of pain he was in.

"Men are such babies." Anya commented, smiling and squeezing Dmitry's hand a little tighter.


	2. You look like you need a hug

_**2\. "You look like you need a hug."**_

"Papa's home!" Maria excitedly exclaimed before rushing out of the kitchen to greet her father, "Come on, Mama!"

Anya was making dinner and had to ensure any open flames were put out before she could follow her daughter, "I'll be there in a second, Masha!"

Anya's reply fell on deaf ears because Maria was overjoyed to see her father. He always rose early but came back later than usual the past month. Normally when he returned from work, he would scoop Maria up and spin her around, kissing her cheek. However, once she reached the door, she could sense that something was different. Her father looked the same as he usually did after work, sweaty, dirty, and in much need of a bath. Despite this, his facial expression seemed different.

"Masha!" Dmitry exclaimed, "give me a hug sweetheart!"

Like always, he gave her a hug and spun her around, peppering kisses to her cheek. However, his smile looked forced and his voice strained.

"What's wrong Papa?" Maria asked, worry shown in her eyes.

"Your Papa is a little tired, that's all. Now, where is your mother?" Dmitry asked, changing the subject.

"She's in the kitchen," Maria replied.

"Let's go see her then," Dmitry said, carrying Maria with him throughout the apartment.

"Dima, welcome home! I made golubtsy—" Anya cut off her sentence once she saw her husband's face. They had survived Russian winters, jumped off trains, and walked across Russia on foot, but never had she seen her husband look so exhausted.

"Smells delicious," Dmitry said to fill the silence. He put Maria down and walked over to Anya to give her a brief kiss.

"How are you feeling today?" Dmitry asked politely, placing his hand on her protruding stomach and rubbing small circles.

"Well, this little one seems calmer than Maria when she was four months along."

"Wonderful. Anything I can do to help with dinner?"

Pinching her nose, Anya said lightly, "You can wash up. You smell like the docks, Dima. The food should be ready in 15 minutes."

Kissing her again, Dmitry left to take a quick bath. His discomfort walking to their bathroom was not missed by Anya's ever observant eye. She decided not to press him, he would talk to her later.

It was refreshing and relaxing to scrub the dirt and grime off his aching body. Freshly dressed and washed, Dmitry joined Anya and Maria in time for dinner. They engaged in small talk about their day, enjoying the time together as a family. When dinner was done, they fell into their usual routine, Dmitry cleaned the dishes while Anya got Maria ready for bed.

With the dishes done, Dmitry went to say goodnight to Maria. "Goodnight Masha, I love you."

"Goodnight, Papa. Love you too!" They then hugged, and she kissed his cheek. Anya followed suit and said goodnight to Maria. "Goodnight darling, see you in the morning."

Closing her door, Anya and Dmitry got themselves ready for bed. Already bathed, Dmitry changed into his sleep clothes and lay in bed, waiting for Anya. When she finished bathing, she sat in front of their mirror and brushed her hair.

"What's wrong, Dima?" she asked, looking at him through the mirror.

"Hmm, nothing."

Damn that stubborn man.

Staring at him through the mirror, she pushed him for answers. "Dmitry," she said firmly, "I have known you for nearly five years. I can tell when something is on your mind."

Realizing he couldn't hide his emotions from her, despite being a former conman, Dmitry caved. He turned to his side, so his back was to Anya.

"I-I'm just a little tired. That's all," Dmitry said barely above a whisper.

"You look like you need a hug."

Standing up, Anya turned off the light and got into bed. She wrapped her arms around Dmitry's stomach, her front pressed against his back. He moved his arms, resting his large hands on her petite ones. Taking a deep breath, he relaxed his tense shoulders, relishing in the light kisses she was placing on his neck, ears, and shoulders.

"You work yourself too hard, Dima."

"It's all for you, Maria, and our unborn child."

"I know, but we want to see you too. The extra money isn't worth risking your health and not seeing your family."

Carefully turning to face her, Dmitry gave her a kiss on her nose. Up close, she could see dark bags under his eyes and deeper lines on the side of his eyes.

"Dima, I don't want you to miss out on your children growing up. Promise me you will make some changes, for your sake."

"Okay, if that will make you happy," Dmitry said reluctantly.

Grabbing his face, she stared him in the eyes. "No," she said firmly, "I only want you to do it if it will make you happy. I miss your smile."

Smiling back at her, he leaned in and kissed her slow and passionately. "I've missed you, Anya. I'll get my old hours back."

"Excellent," Anya replied, "Now come here, I missed your warmth in bed."

With that, husband and wife fell asleep peacefully: the worry no longer etching their faces and wrapped in each other's arms.


	3. I need a foot massage, pronto

_**3\. "I need a foot massage, pronto."**_

"I need a foot massage, pronto."

Not breaking eye contact from his book, Dmitry responded sarcastically, "It's nice to see you too, darling. How was your day?"

Collapsing on the coach rather ungracefully, Anya looked like she had a rough day. She did not appreciate his comment though and gave him a death stare. However, he didn't notice until he bookmarked his page and put his book down. "Now what can I do for her royal highness?"

Rolling her eyes, Anya fired back, "Cut the crap, Dima. Today was a pain in the ass shopping for dresses. Lily dragged me to five stores and I wore heels all day! I'm pretty sure I have a million blisters."

Moving closer to her, he wrapped his left arm around her and kissed her forehead. "Who knew marrying me would cause so much trouble?"

Giggling, Anya swatted his arm playfully but leaned into him more. Their wedding was a little over a month away and she still hadn't found a dress. Those wedding tv shows were totally fake, Anya concluded. They made it seem like there was an aha moment when the bride undoubtedly knew which dress her wedding dress was. However, each dress Anya tried on didn't seem to be the one. There were too many criteria to find her wedding dress: color, shape, price, style, etc.

Pulling her from her thoughts, Dmitry spoke again.

"W-what did you say Dima? I was in a daze."

"Put your legs up," he patted his lap.

"Really?" Anya asked in disbelief. She didn't think he would actually fulfill her demand.

"Of course! What kind of fiancée do you think I am?" he paused, "Actually, don't answer that."

Giving him a warm smile, Anya complied and turned so her feet rested on his thighs. "You're an amazing fiancée. There is no one else I'd rather marry. I love you."

"I love you too, Anya." Dmitry had begun to slip off her heels and rub her feet. "You're doing an amazing job organizing our wedding. Rubbing your feet is the least I could do."

Anya laid back, resting her head on the side of the couch. Dmitry was doing wonders massaging her feet. After a couple minutes, she arched into his touch and let out a small groan.

Stopping abruptly, Dmitry joked, "Gosh woman, don't tell me this is turning you on."

Lust in her eyes, Anya leaned back seductively. "I don't know what you're talking about. Now, touch me."

Pulling her into his lap, he smiled up at her and asked, "Where?"

"You know where," Anya responded before straddling his waist and kissing him. He picked her up and brought her to the bedroom.

 **Sorry for the scattered updates. College is very time consuming and it is hard to find time in between studying to write. Oddly, I have many of the prompts written but haven't posted them yet. They just need to be edited/reviewed first. Currently, I have 23/45 prompts done because some turned out way longer than a drabble. I will try my best to get many uploaded by the end of December. Thank you for your patience and for reading my story.**

 **~Jazzy Euphonium**


	4. Wash your hands, then hug me

_**4\. "Wash your hands, then hug me."**_

"Daddy's home!" Maria exclaimed, sprinting from the kitchen to the front door where her father was standing.

A smile rose to Dmitry's face as he saw his children running towards him. He bent down to envelop both into his arms. Despite a tiring day at work, Maria and Ivan instantly raised his spirits. He kissed his six-year-old and three-year-old on their heads.

"What have you guys been up to?"

"Me, Mommy, and Ivan—we made brownies!" Maria excitedly exclaimed, jumping up and down, "come and see, Daddy!"

He waited a second before following Maria to his family's delicious creation. Ivan was lightly tugging his pant leg and he noticed a mess of batter on his son's hands. Realization hitting him, Dmitry inspected his clothing to find small traces of flour and chocolate on his shirt and pants. Deciding not to worry about it now, he looked down at Ivan. The younger boy lifted his arms up and began to repeat, "up, up" until Dmitry complied with his wishes. Dmitry took a breath and leaned down to pick up Ivan, careful not to get more food on himself.

Walking into the kitchen, he immediately saw Anya and Maria hunched over at the counter. As he inched closer, his ears filled with music as he heard his wife's laughter. Anya leaned back holding her stomach, laughing at something Maria just said. Dmitry noted that Anya was wearing black leggings and an old tee shirt of his. The shirt was filled with splatters of brownie batter and a bit of flour dusted her face. Despite this, she still looked beautiful to him.

As Dmitry set Ivan down, Anya turned and noticed their presence.

"Dmitry, you're home!" Anya nearly ran toward him, opening her arms for a hug.

Sticking out his hand to halt her, he said seriously, "Wash your hands, then hug me. The kids already got batter on me."

Anya just rolled her eyes, before she raised her hand and swiped some batter on his cheek.

"Hey! Anya!" Dmitry stepped back to prevent another attack. This caused Anya to smile and giggle lightly. Dmitry decided that if Anya wanted to play this game, he would play it too. So he walked over to the counter and stuck his finger in the batter, placing a dollop of it onto Anya's nose.

"Now it's war," Anya proclaimed before taking an egg and cracking it on top of Dmitry's head. Dmitry simply narrowed his eyes and pursed his lips together. Despite how annoyed he was, it was enjoyable to see Anya nearly in tears from laughing. Before she could get away, he scooped her in his arms and spun her around. Then he tickled her with kisses on her neck. With her guard down, he took the remaining bit of flour in the bowl and dumped it on her head. At that point, all four were laughing with tears in their eyes. They must've looked ridiculous, but they couldn't have cared less.

 _Ding!_

The oven timer went off and Anya composed herself enough to take out the brownies. The Sudayev family ate their brownies at the kitchen counter, not caring about how messy they all looked.


	5. Are you sure you're not cold?

_**5\. "Are you sure you're not cold?"**_

"Are you sure you're not cold?"

"Yes, for the millionth time, Dima! I am not cold," Anya exclaimed, exasperated at her husband's overly concerned behavior. She began to walk away from him, attempting to continue what she was doing previously. Dmitry tried to follow her, struggling to keep up with her despite her smaller stride.

"Okay, well if you feel cold, just let me know," Dmitry responded before adding, "Do you need help with that?"

Dmitry gestured to the laundry basket on the ground.

Anya sighed, "No thank you, Dima. I am capable of carrying the laundry basket by myself."

Dmitry's stubbornness, even despite his good intentions, won out.

"Yes, I know you are. But with the pregnancy, should you be doing any strenuous activity? The basket is pretty heavy," Dmitry protested.

Anya raised her arms in defeat and groaned. "Dmitry! I am pregnant. Not made of glass! If you want to do the laundry, then feel free!"

"Anya, I am just trying to make sure you're comfortable—" Dmitry began before Anya cut him off by physically, putting her index finger over his lips.

"I know, Dima, and I appreciate that. You're a great husband and will be an amazing father. But right now, you're suffocating me with your overprotectiveness," Anya said softly.

"Sorry, I guess I'm just nervous and excited, but also terrified about the baby," Dmitry confessed, taking Anya's hands in his, "I never thought I would be where I am now. With you and starting a family. Sometimes, I am afraid this is all a dream and I'll wake up back on the streets in Petersburg."

Anya's expression softened and saddened. She moved to wrap her arms around Dmitry to hug him as best she could, considering she was five months pregnant.

"Don't worry, Dima. We're not going anywhere."

She felt him stiffen in her embrace. "You don't know that," he whispered.

She pulled back to look at his face, "You're right, I don't. But I do know that we must cherish each moment together and not worry about what could happen. We'll miss out on everything happening now."

With that, she moved Dmitry's hand to her stomach so he could feel the small movements underneath her skin. She saw his expression brighten and a small smile appear. Dmitry was right. There was no chance knowing what was to come. Both had endured enough tragedy and sadness to know that everything could be gone in a second. However, the fates proved time and time again that they were meant to be together. They deserved every ounce of happiness.


	6. I want to spend all my time with you

_**6\. "I want to spend all my time with you."**_

"How are feeling today Anya?" the nurse asked politely after she walked into the room.

"Hello Nancy," Anya greeted with a warm smile, "today I'm feeling less tired."

"That's good to hear," Nancy replied, "Now you know the routine."

Anya dutifully adjusted her position so Nancy could take her blood pressure, temperature, and heart rate.

"Everything is looking good, Anya. Is your husband coming today?" Nancy asked as she wrote the latest measurements on the board.

"He's not supposed to, but who knows what he'll do," Anya laughed lightly.

Nancy smiled and turned to face Anya, "What do you mean 'he isn't supposed to'?"

"He is supposed to work today and pick up the kids from school and drive them to their activities. Maria has dance at four and Ivan has hockey practice at six."

"How lovely," Nancy beamed, "That man sure loves you, so it wouldn't surprise me if he dropped by even for a few minutes."

"I'm a lucky woman," Anya said happily, despite her current condition.

"You have a nice day Anya. I'll be back around later to check up on you."

"Thank you, Nancy," Anya replied graciously.

After Nancy left, Anya picked up her book and nibbled on her breakfast. When she was a few chapters in, she heard a knock on the door.

"Come in," Anya said as loudly as she could with her weakened voice.

Although she was half expecting it, her face lit up when Dmitry walked in. He carried a wonderful aroma of food with him as he entered, and Anya's mouth watered. As usual, he greeted her with a smile and kissed her scarf covered head.

"Hello beautiful," Dmitry said warmly.

"Oh Dima, you didn't have to come…"

"I had an hour break from work and decided to come eat lunch with you. I know this might be against the rules, but I brought you your favorite soup."

"Screw the rules. I'm dying anyway, so what difference is one soup going to make?"

Although he already knew that Anya was terminally ill, it still stung to hear her say it so frankly. Maybe it was because he still hadn't come to terms with her illness. After all she suffered from, the gunshot wounds and amnesia, she also had to be given breast cancer. It just wasn't fair. Dmitry remaining quiet, quickly cleaned up the table next to Anya's bed and took the containers of food out of the bag. Like a gentleman, he set the plastic utensils and tucked a napkin into Anya's shirt. He noted how big the shirt looked on her today. He had visited her yesterday morning before work and hadn't noticed how much weight she had lost.

Anya had been battling cancer for the last two years. Recently, she was admitted to the hospital after she began having trouble breathing. Dmitry did his best at being her caregiver while also taking care of their two children, Maria and Ivan. The cancer took a toll on the family, although they were no strangers to tragedy. Vlad and Lily tried their best to help whenever they could, watching their niece and nephew and driving them places while Dmitry took care of Anya or worked. It was almost strange how the cancer brought the family closer than ever. While Anya and Dmitry knew what it was like to lose loved ones, Maria and Ivan grew to appreciate their parents even more.

Dmitry and Anya ate in silence, holding each other's hand. Anya's hand always felt small in his but her bony fingers covered by thin skin felt foreign to him. Strange how one hand he held on to for nearly fifteen years suddenly felt like someone he didn't know. Anya felt his uneasy and gently asked him, "Dmitry, are you alright?"

He cleared his throat and clenched his jaw, "Yeah I'm alright."

"No, you're not," she said sternly, "tell me what is on your mind."

He chuckled lightly, his best friend, his wife, his lover, the mother of their children; he couldn't hide anything from her.

"I suppose I'm sad… I love you so much and it pains me to see you like this... to see you suffering."

Anya pulled Dmitry towards her for him to come in the bed with her. Him being a large man made it a little difficult to squeeze in the hospital bed meant for one. However, he was able to adjust so that he wasn't crushing Anya and they could hold onto one another.

"Dima, I need to know that you're okay. That you and the kids will be alright when I'm gone."

Dmitry refused to make eye contact with her, his eyes watering.

"Dima," she said weakly, desperately calling out to him, "I am dying. I know you know but I'm not sure if you have accepted it. I can't go without knowing that you'll be okay."

Dmitry breathed in slowly, taking in her delicate scent that reminded him of home. "Okay," he croaked, "I… You're… I'll be okay. The kids and I will be okay. We just want you to be happy and pain free."

Anya leaned in and kissed him softly. Her body released sharp pains with each movement, but she fought against it. His lips felt soft and wet against her chapped, small ones. She felt his hand gently rest on her back, as if he were afraid any movement would break or shatter her.

Resting their foreheads together, Dmitry whispered, "I want to spend all my time with you."

"All of it. Every last second of mine on this Earth is yours," Anya replied softly, her voice strong and sure.

 **I hope you enjoyed the latest chapters and have a great New Year! If you're following this story (AKA compilation of drabbles), thank you so much for reading! I will try my best to have Drabble 10 posted within the next week.**

 **~Jazzy Euphonium**


	7. Ready for our dance?

_**7\. "Ready for our dance?"**_

Anya awoke to faint murmurs coming from behind her. Still drowsy from her mere five hours of sleep, she curled closer into her pillow, relishing its softness. However, her sharp observant tendencies won over and she strained to distinguish what the mysterious voices were saying.

"But Papa, you promised!"

"O-okay Maria, just give me a second. Your Mama is sleeping, keep your voice low."

Anya felt the bed shift and a warmth leave as her husband got out of bed. She could practically imagine Maria dragging him down the hallway as she heard tiny footsteps quickly making their way down the hall followed by her husband's shuffles. She glanced at the small clock on the wall and read the time.

 _What could they possibly be doing at this early hour?_

Curiosity winning out again, Anya got up and searched for her family. She stealthily walked down the hallway, careful not to alert Dmitry and Maria. Upon reaching the end of the hallway, she heard voices from the living room. Although their apartment was small, Anya made sure to stay hidden from sight as she watched her family.

"Ready for our dance?"

"Of course, Papa!" Maria practically squealed for joy.

Dmitry offered his hand for Maria to rest hers upon. Promptly after, she stepped on both of her father's feet. Even at a distance she could see their wide smiles as Dmitry gently began to dance. He started shifting his weight back and forth, getting into the rhythm. As both became more comfortable, he began to move around the room. Anya grinned watching the scene before her, fondly remembering the times when she and Dmitry danced. They rarely danced together, but when they did, the world disappeared around them. What initially began as a battle for dominance and a lack of coordination evolved into harmony. Although, Anya still stepped on Dmitry's toes to tease him once in a while. Anya was pulled from her thoughts as Dmitry picked Maria up and swung her around. Forgetting all about her father's warnings, Maria let out a large squeal followed by cheerful giggles. Dmitry didn't care though once he saw how happy Maria was.

"Higher Papa higher!"

When their dance finished, Dmitry and Maria caught sight of Anya proudly watching them.

"Mama! Mama! Did you see? Did you see?" Maria excitedly asked, running up to her mother.

Picking her up and kissing her on the cheek, Anya responded happily, "I did see Maria. You had a lovely dance with Papa."

Walking up to his girls, Dmitry leaned down and kissed Anya on her forehead.

"Sorry if we woke you. I promised Maria that I would dance with her," Dmitry said softly.

"I was curious what you two were up to. I'm glad I was able to see it," Anya smiled, "Why so early in the morning though?"

Dmitry fought back a yawn, "Maria is usually asleep by the time I return from work and when I wake up for work. I suppose she figured this would be the best solution."

Anya looked at Maria in her arms and saw her giggle. "You should be asleep, miss."

"I know Mama, but I was just so excited to dance with Papa," Maria drew out her words.

"She's a stubborn girl who does what she sets her mind to. I wonder where she gets that from," Dmitry said teasingly.

Anya gave him a fake angry glare and pouted her lips at him. This elicited a chuckle from Dmitry.

"But she'll grow to be an amazing woman, like her mother," Dmitry added, resting his hand on the small of Anya's back and staring into her eyes.

"You're a good father, Dima. A good husband, a good man, and most importantly a good person." A beat. "I love you," Anya stood up on her tippy toes to peck Dmitry's lips.


	8. You mean more than anything

_**8\. "You mean more than anything."**_

"You're home early," Anya commented when Dmitry walked through the doorway of their apartment.

He shrugged his coat off and hung it on the hook next to the door before responding. However, Anya could tell something was off but couldn't quite put her finger on it. In fact, Dmitry had been acting strange this past month. He owed it to work piling up, but his strange behavior did not add up.

"Yeah, work wasn't too busy today and I figured you and we could go out tonight," Dmitry said casually, "We haven't had a night to ourselves in a while."

He remained at the doorway, slightly confused as to why Anya still sat on the couch. Normally, she would greet him at the door with a hug and peck on the lips. However, she remained in her spot, with her arms across her chest and a stern look on her face. Granted, he knew she had a right to be angry considering his behavior in the recent month. Normally, he would be home from work around 6 o'clock, but lately he didn't come home until 10 o'clock. He hoped tonight, he would have the opportunity to explain everything.

"Are you alright?" Dmitry asked as he approached Anya slowly.

As he was about to reach her, Anya stood up immediately and remained tense. "I don't know, Dmitry. I was about to ask you the same thing," her tone was curt and laced with anger.

He looked down at her with a confused look, "What is this about? Did I do something wrong?"

"Don't act coy, Dmitry," Anya spit out, "You know exactly what you need to explain."

Dmitry reached for her hand, but when his fingers graced hers, she pulled back with such ferocity. She then crossed the room to pick up a book from their bookcase.

"I found money stuffed between the pages of this book, Dmitry!" She then threw the book at him, which his barely dodged, "I don't know why you would hide something like this from me. I thought we were in this together."

"Anya. We are… I-I can explain about the money—"

She cut him off, her temper growing rapidly, "You better do so because when I checked yesterday, all the money you put in there was gone!"

Dmitry attempted to get closer to Anya, but she kept her distance. "Anya—"

She cut him off once again after crossing the room again to his coat, "Dmitry, would you also care to explain why your coat smells like women's perfume?"

Dmitry was starting to become frustrated as well, with himself and Anya. The damn woman kept interrupting every time he tried to explain. He ran his hand through his hair, "Yes, I can explain—"

"Or the late hours Dmitry? I have barely seen you this past month. You're gone in the morning before I work and back in the evening when I am asleep."

"I told you, work got especially busy—"

Anya marched right up to him and poked her index finger firmly on his chest, "Or why you have been distant the past month. I feel as if you can barely stand to touch me or even to be around me."

Dmitry placed both hands on her shoulders and bend down to be at her eye level, "That's not the case. You mean more than anything."

Her eyes prickled with tears, but her stubbornness refused to let them fall. She took a step back from him, her voice taking a more defeated tone, "Fine. Then tell me the signs are wrong. Tell me you're not cheating."

"No, of course not!" Dmitry looked as if she slapped him in the face. It never even crossed his mind that his actions would cause her to doubt his feelings for her.

He took a cautious step forward, gently took her hands in his, and bowed his head in shame. "Listen… I wanted this to be a surprise… but of course just my luck."

Anya furrowed her brows in confusion and opened her mouth to speak. Suddenly, she silenced herself once she saw Dmitry slowly bend down and get on one knee, never breaking eye contact with her. Both stayed there silent, the moment dragged on to feel like minutes. She felt one warm, sturdy hand leave hers and watched as he reached into his pants pocket. Still frozen in place, she watched as he positioned her hands and placed the small simple box in her cupped hands. Anya knew this only meant one thing. She swallowed and glanced back at Dmitry, noticing his hands getting shakier and his breathing increasing. He cleared his throat and took a deep breath before speaking.

"Anastasia Nikolayevna Romanova…. Anya… I love you. I have been in love with you since I was 10 years old. Never would I ever believe that we would be together. That you would choose me… Our lives have been pretty crazy and there is no one else I'd rather go through everything with. I want to spend the rest of our lives together," Dmitry chuckled, picturing him and Anya growing old together, "Marry me?"

Anya stood there paralyzed, watching Dmitry's confidence start to falter. Blinking a few times, she took the box in one hand and swiftly smacked him on his arm.

"I love you too, but dammit Dima you need to explain some things first!"

"Alright alright," Dmitry raised his hands in surrender, "Just promise me you won't hit me or interrupt until I finish explaining."

"I make no such promises. You have a lot of crap to explain and you better make it quick."

"First, the reason I have been coming home much later is because I have been taking other jobs to pay for your—sorry _the_ ring. That would also explain the hidden money. I had to set aside the extra money, so you wouldn't find it and question me. However, based on where we are now, you found the money."

Anya scoffed at his stupidity. Their apartment was small, yes, but hiding the money in a book, knowing already that she enjoyed reading in her spare time, was not a wise choice.

"Second, the reason why I smell like women's perfume is because I spilled a bottle of it. Conveniently, I spilled it on me. I cut a deal with the jeweler to do some work around his house in exchange for a reduced price. Anyway, you know how clumsy I am, and I accidentally spilled his wife's perfume on my coat. I did not sleep with—or kiss or hug or touch—another woman."

"Lastly," he paused to hold her hands, "I want to be intimate with you—you have no idea how badly—but I need to do it the right way. I want to do it the right way. I think once I realized how much closer the reality was when I finally counted how much I saved, I drew back from you. I'm sorry."

Anya cupped Dmitry's face with her hands and brought his face down for a kiss. She kissed him with the same ferocity as she did less than a year ago on her grandfather's bridge. She drew back after a few seconds. "God, I'm such an idiot, Dima. You're such an idiot too."

Dmitry and Anya laughed, the air and mood growing lighter. "I think we're all fools when we're in love," Dmitry said, earning a smile from Anya.

"When did you become so wise?" Anya teased him, wrapping her arms around his neck while his rested on her waist.

"When a certain princess turned a conman into an honest man," Dmitry responded, genuinely.

"You don't give yourself enough credit, Dima," Anya said, slight sadness in her voice.

"Thank you, for believing in me—for being my better half… I hope it continues in the future, but you haven't exactly answered my question," Dmitry reminded her.

Anya rolled her eyes before joking, "I haven't seen the ring yet, and it might be the deciding factor."

Then she dropped her hands from Dmitry's face and opened the ring box slowly. Despite the disastrous events leading up to this moment, Anya wanted to savor the moment and take in every last detail.

Dmitry watched Anya's expression carefully as she opened the ring box. He didn't realize he was holding his breath until he saw her eyes light up and cover her mouth with her hand. He breathed a silent sigh of relief.

"Dima… it's beautiful. I love it! Yes, yes, I will marry you!" Anya said excitedly. She launched herself at Dmitry and wrapped her arms around his neck. Caught off guard, Dmitry lost his balance and the two fell back onto the couch.

Anya giggled, and Dmitry groaned in pain after Anya's knee dug into his thigh. "Sorry, Dima," Anya apologized, shifting her weight so Dmitry wasn't in as much pain.

"I know, I know. All men are babies," Dmitry reassured her. Still with her on top of him, he plucked the box out of her hand and placed the ring on her fourth finger.


	9. If I tell you, it wouldn't be a secret

_**9\. "Well, if I tell you, then it wouldn't be a secret."**_

"Dmitry, you better tell me where the fuck we are going!" Anya commanded through gritted teeth.

Dmitry remained calm and collected, unfazed by Anya's anger towards him.

"Well, if I tell you, then it wouldn't be a secret," Dmitry teased her, gently rubbing her knee, "Relax, you'll find out once we get there."

"Ugh," Anya exclaimed, "Dmitry, first you made us leave Peter's birthday party early and now we've been driving for nearly an hour and I don't know where we are going."

"Listen, I know Peter is your favorite nephew, but I have Olga's stamp of approval. Second, I at least owe you this, we're heading to the airport now. I had the driver take a few detours to throw you off course."

Anya smacked Dmitry in the arm, her jaw clenched, and nose bunched up. Dmitry just smiled and rubbed where she hit. "I deserved that."

When they reached the airport drop-off, Dmitry got out first and then helped Anya out of the car. They were both still dressed nicely for Peter's birthday party.

"Dmitry, I don't have a change of clothes or anything else I would normally need for a trip," Anya voiced her concern.

"Which is why I had your sisters pack a bag for you. I have everything I believe you'll need: glasses, contacts, toothbrush, makeup, and 'cute outfits'", Dmitry responded, using finger quotes for the last item. Anya rolled her eyes, smiled, and felt relieved. Despite living together for over a year now, she still didn't trust Dmitry to pick out clothes for her. She trusted her sisters and knew that they chose the right things for her.

Dmitry took both of their bags and the pair headed inside after thanking the driver. Dmitry had Anya wait with the bags as he printed off their boarding passes. When he returned, Anya stuck her hand out to take her boarding pass. Dmitry hesitated at first before handing it to her. "I guess you can find out where we are heading now. I'm not going to blindfold you throughout the airport."

Anya gingerly took the boarding pass and read their destination. "Athens, Greece. Why are we going there?"

Dmitry smiled and brought her closer, "Because, I know you have been a little stressed lately and I figured a little weekend getaway could do you some good."

Anya beamed at Dmitry and gave him a kiss. "Thank you so much for doing this Dima. I love you."

"I love you too… And before you ask about work, I called the office and explained our mini-vacation. They won't call unless there is an emergency. Also, Clark was kind enough to not give me any stories that are due this weekend. So it will be just you, me, and the beach."

"Sounds perfect."

During the flight, Anya and Dmitry caught up after not seeing each other much this past week. Dmitry had been away in London following a story while Anya had a series of press conferences relating to her organization's expansion. Anya worked as a third-grade school teacher, but also was a founder for her charity organization dedicated to helping orphans. Originally based in Paris, "Home. Love. Family.", now had two more branches in Marseille and Lyon.

By the time they arrived in Greece, it was already in the early hours of the next day and they had to get on a connecting flight to Santorini. By the time they finally arrived at their hotel, it was nearly three in the morning. Dmitry and Anya were tired from traveling and quickly hopped into bed.

The next morning, Dmitry and Anya slept in and lazily ate breakfast in bed. Everything seemed perfect. The air had a fresh, salt smell, there was a slight breeze coming from the window, and the view was incredible. Anya leaned into the warmth from Dmitry and savored the taste of the yogurt with fresh fruit and bread. She thought about how lucky she was to have such a great boyfriend. She had grown to see how romantic and spontaneous he was throughout their time together. He kept her on her toes and hated to be predictable.

"As much as I would love to spend all day in bed with you, we have places to be," Dmitry whispered into her hair.

"One more minute," Anya breathed in, "I want to take this all in and remember this moment."

They quickly dressed and set out to explore the island. The weather was beautiful and the view breathtaking. Greece was incomparable to Russia and France. It had such a unique culture that Anya and Dmitry couldn't wait to experience.

First, they walked along the uneven and random streets, not caring where they were going. They found quaint shops and restaurants down alleys. It was exciting to see the nooks and crannies of Santorini, not just what the average tourist saw.

Anya relived flashbacks to when Dmitry showed her around Petersburg. He excitedly grabbed her hand and led her through the random streets. Meanwhile she ocassionally pulled him back momentarily to further look at something they quickly passed by.

After exploring the mainland, both decided to further explore the beach. The water was almost unreal. The blend of colors was so rich and pure.

"The water is amazing," Anya sighed contently, "and the color is so beautiful."

"Not as beautiful as you," Dmitry gushed, slightly chuckling at how cheesy but true his statement was, "The color reminds me of your eyes. I can just get lost in them."

With that he leaned down and gently kissed her eyelids. When he opened his eyes, he found her smiling up at him.

"Shall we picnic here?" Dmitry asked, gesturing to the soft sand.

Anya enthusiastically nodded, taking the quilt out of the bag and placing it own the ground. Earlier, Dmitry and Anya had picked up a basket with food, some wine, and a quilt to lay on. They enjoyed sitting on the small quilt together, eating cheese and bread, and sipping on delicious wine.

With full bellies, Anya and Dmitry curled up against one another. Dmitry wrapped his arms around Anya and hugged her from behind. She relished in the contrast between the cool breeze and Dmitry's warmth. She giggled when he placed small kisses on her neck and smelled the salt from her hair. She gently played with his fingers and grew tired. They lay there together for an hour or so napping. When they woke, they decided to go explore the water.

At first, Anya wanted to take it slow and strolled into the water. However, Dmitry had a different idea. He ran behind her and carried her bridal style into the water. Initially, she was furious, splashing him once she stood up. He gave her a goofy smile that she couldn't wait to wipe off. Luckily, a wave came and knocked her boyfriend over. She held her stomach as she laughed and nearly fell over once she saw all the seaweed on his head. He walked over to her and tried to kiss her.

"Dima, I'm not kissing you until you get that off your head," Anya laughed.

"What? You don't like my new hair? I thought that I would grow it out," Dmitry joked.

She reached up and knocked it off his head and then he went underwater to get off any remaining seaweed. After he resurfaced, Dmitry took Anya's hand and led her into slightly deeper waters. With the height difference, he went far enough that if Anya still had to stand, she could.

Squatting down, Dmitry pulled Anya into his lap and wrapped his arms around her. The sun had made little freckles on her nose and he couldn't help but kiss it. She reached up to hold his face in both of her hands and kissed him tenderly.

They both were in their thirties now and at first felt ridiculous making out in the water like hormonal teenagers. However, they decided to block out the world and only focus on them.

A little while later, Anya and Dmitry walked back to their room and changed for dinner. They were starving by now and Dmitry said he had a reservation booked. They ate at a small restaurant along the water and looked out at the view. It was almost unreal how beautiful it was: the crystal-clear waters, birds flying along the horizon, the untouched rocky shore. Dmitry took a picture of Anya but scoffed at how no matter how hard he tried, the picture did not do her justice. He just wanted a memory of how she looked in this moment, at peace and content.

Later after dinner, they decided to stroll along the beach as the sun was setting. The cool sand tickled their feet, Anya excitedly squirmed her toes to feel the tiny grains. Dmitry suddenly stopped and turned to hold both of Anya's hands. She at first had a look of confusion on her face but noticed Dmitry's nervous smile. She rose up on her toes and kissed him on the cheek, making Dmitry's smile even brighter.

"I'm so lucky to have you in my life," Dmitry confessed softly. Leaning forward so their foreheads were touching.

"Me too," Anya whispered, as if saying it any louder would break the moment.

Feeling Dmitry pull away, he smiled and said, "Come, I have a surprise for you."

"I'm a lucky girl, this trip itself is more of a surprise than I could have ever hoped for."

When they walked a little further, Dmitry took her to a building right along the coast. Walking inside, Anya soon discovered it was a beautiful library. In awe about her surroundings, Anya didn't notice Dmitry pull out a book from the shelf. He began to read.

"Anastasia Nikolayevna Romanova was born on June 18th, 1989. She was born to two, loving parents Nicholas and Alexandra. She had three older sisters, Olga, Tatiana, and Maria, with a little brother a couple years later named Alexei. In addition to her immediate family, she also had a special connection to her Nana, Marie. Anastasia, who later decided on the nicknames, Nastya and Anya, was a rambunctious child, always playing pranks and breaking expectations, both good and bad. Despite her mischievous behavior, she had a soft spot for helping children…"

Dmitry then continued to recount her life, mentioning stories she had never told him and that only her parents and siblings would know. He then talked about her years at university and her accomplishments.

"Then, one day, she bought coffee at a local coffee shop and clumsily spilled some on a handsome dashing fellow." Anya rolled her eyes.

"The two butted heads at first, constantly running into each other because they worked in the same area. Eventually, after spilling coffee on one another and accidentally ripping jackets several times, they decided to make it up to one another over dinner. There, they discovered how similar they were and how their differences created good chemistry. After that day, the rest is history. Several dates later, pizzas eaten, family dinners attended, video games played, and kisses shared, here we are today. So, two years, 10 months, 15 days, and approximately 8 hours later, I, Dmitry Antonovich Sudayev, ask you with the fullest heart full of undying love for you, to marry this street rat."

Anya excitedly nodded her head, unable to speak. Dmitry shakily put the ring on her finger and wrapped in in a hug. Still at a loss for words, she grabbed both sides of his face and kissed him fiercely.

 **I hope you enjoyed the last couple updates. Expect more soon!**

 **I am pretty emotional that the Broadway production is playing its final performance and I wish nothing but the best for everyone involved. This chapter was inspired by Christy Altomare's engagement and thought that it would be cute for Dimya.**


	10. Time for a pillow fight

_**10\. "Time for a pillow fight."**_

"Dmitry, for the millionth time, I told you to not leave your dirty clothes in our room. We have a laundry basket for a reason," Anya said exasperated at her messy husband.

Dmitry had just sat down after taking a bath. He had just returned from work and was exhausted. There were three men out today, so Dmitry and the other workers had to make up for the smaller workforce.

Dmitry simply leaned his head back, sighed, and pinched his nose bridge. "Anya, I just got back from work and I am exhausted. Can we talk about this another time?"

Anya threw Dmitry's smelly shirt at him, "No, you said the same excuse last week. It seems that it is never going to be the right time, so we might as well do it now."

Dmitry jumped up from the couch with a clear look of annoyance on his face. "Anya, we've been together for over seven years. Why is this suddenly bugging you?"

Anya crossed her arms across her chest. "Because this apartment is a pigsty Dmitry! I have to pick up after the kids; I don't want to have to clean up after my husband too!" Anya gestured to their small apartment and the mess that covered it.

"How is this my problem? It's not like my stuff was all over our room. I put my dirty clothes on the chair in our room," Dmitry argued back, his voice getting louder.

"Dmitry! Just because you can't smell your own stench doesn't mean the rest of us can't! I understand that you're exhausted from work, but so am I! I just want to come home and spend time with you and the kids. I don't want to come home to and worry about all the chores that need to get done."

"Simple solution. You don't worry about that stuff," Dmitry said bluntly.

Anya threw her hands up in exasperation, "Dmitry! I don't know if you realize, but I do all the work in the apartment! I clean it, take care of the kids, and go to work! You—"

"Hey, don't say I don't pull my weight. I work to provide for our family and help you with the kids and dinner!" Dmitry yelled back defensively.

"I never said you don't pull your weight!" Anya shouted, "Don't put words in my mouth!"

At this point Anya was standing on her toes to get to Dmitry's level and he was hunched over so he was nearly even with Anya.

"Well, that's what you were implying!"

"No, I wasn't. I was trying to say—"

"Mama? Papa?"

Anya was interrupted when she heard a small voice next to her. She and Dmitry looked down to see their Ivan looking at them, hugging his stuffed dog. His eyes were wet with tears.

Anya bent down to pick him up and hold him in her arms. "What's wrong Vanya? Why are you crying?" she asked as she wiped away his tears.

"You and Papa yelled at each other. It was scary," Ivan said as he buried his face in his mother's shoulder.

Anya shushed him and rubbed circles on his back, "Aww honey, don't worry. Papa and I just got in a little argument that's all."

"Are we still gonna be family?" Ivan mumbled into his mother's shirt.

"What?" Anya asked in disbelief, "Of course we will always be a family. Where did you get that idea?"

"Maria," Ivan said plainly.

Anya eyed her husband and silently told him to check on their oldest. Dmitry simply nodded and went to Maria's room. After seven years, they knew each other well enough to communicate without words.

Dmitry reached Maria's room to find the door closed; he lightly knocked.

"Maria?" he said through the door.

When he was met with silence, he gently opened the door. He found his daughter sitting on the bed, pouting. Dmitry held back a laugh because it was almost funny how Maria had the same pout as her mother. He walked over slowly and sat on the bed next to her. He didn't say anything at first, waiting for Maria to speak first. However, after a minute or so, Dmitry knew she was just as stubborn as her mother and he would have to be the first to speak.

"Maria, Ivan told us what you said. Why do you think that we're not going to be a family anymore?" Dmitry asked softly, putting his arm around her shoulders.

Maria looked up at him and stared into his eyes. "Because Louise's parents argued like you and Mama and they're not together anymore. Louise and Gabriel don't live with their mama anymore and have to visit her."

Dmitry had heard about Maria's friend's parents' divorce through neighborhood gossip but minded his own business. Supposedly, the father was cheating on the mother and she had found out. He felt sorry for the children, whose lives were changed because of the ugly mess.

Dmitry was certain that this wouldn't be the fate of his family. He loved Anya too much and she him. Their bickering, that's all it was. They never went to bed angry at each other and if they did, they usually resolved their issues the next day.

"Mama and I just had a little disagreement, that's all. We're sorry if we frightened you and Ivan," Dmitry apologized sincerely.

"It didn't sound like a little disagreement," Maria stated bluntly.

Dmitry rolled his eyes. Their daughter was a little too smart for her own good, despite only being six-years old.

"Do you still love each other?" Maria asked, catching him by surprise.

"Of course," Dmitry said immediately. He was surprised that he had to convince his own daughter that he still loved her mother.

"You and Mama have been fighting a lot lately," Maria pointed out, "You didn't use to do that."

Dmitry was torn between pride and guilt. He was proud that his daughter was observant for such a young age but felt guilty that she was affected by his arguments with Anya. There was no denying that he and Anya had been fighting more than usual. The economy was in a depression and they were lucky enough to still have jobs. However, both of their salaries had been cut and they did their best to keep some semblance of normalness for Maria and Ivan's sakes.

"Mama and I just have a lot of decisions to make right now. But don't worry; we're staying together," Dmitry reassured her, "I've been in love with Mama since I was ten years old."

"Really?" Maria asked in disbelief, turning to face her father. Her face was eager for more details.

"Definitely," Dmitry confirmed. He and Anya had told their children little snippets of their past, but it was heavily filtered and changed to make it appropriate for children. Basically, their children knew that her parents met immigrating from Russia and the rest was history. Luckily, both Ivan and Maria hadn't been too curious to ask for more details.

"Mama said you met in Russia on your way to Paris. How did you know her when you were ten?" Maria asked excitedly.

"Well it's actually quite simple. It was June, I was ten…"

Dmitry told their daughter about how he saw the most fascinating girl at the parade. He set the scene for her, leaving out the part about her mother being Anastasia and him being a poor, street rat. Instead, he made it seem as if they saw each other in the crowd of thousands. It wouldn't be until nearly twenty years later that they realized it was each other that they saw.

Anya stood by the doorway with Ivan as Dmitry told his story. She smiled brightly, watching her husband amaze and entertain their daughter. When he finished, he looked up and saw Anya. He felt a moment of déjà vu, the same feeling coming to him when he looked up at her at the parade and when he looked up at her in her blue dress at the ballet. His heart swelled and was breathless. He returned her smile and gestured for her to sit on the bed. She gladly walked over with Ivan and the four Sudayevs sat on the bed together.

"Ivan and Maria, Papa and I are sorry if we scared you. We let our tempers get the better of us," Anya apologized, gently squeezing her children's hands, "I hope you know that it is not your faults if Papa and I fight. Even though we disagree with one another, your Papa and I love each other very much."

"We love you too Mama," Maria said, moving over to give her mother a hug.

"Yeah, I love you Mama!" Ivan said excitedly, also hugging Anya.

"And I love all of you," Dmitry said with a smile; he joined in and hugged all three of them, "You three are my entire world. I love you all so much."

Dmitry began to peck kisses on Anya, Maria, and Ivan and the group hug disbanded.

"Papa! That tickles!" Maria exclaimed joyfully.

The Sudayevs all laughed and laid on the small bed, not caring that they were all on top of each other due to the small space.

"Papa? Mama?"

"Yes Masha," Dmitry and Anya said in unison.

"What were you two fighting about?"

Anya and Dmitry made eye contact and rolled their eyes at their daughter's question. Luckily, she didn't notice. Anya spoke up first, "Papa and I had a disagreement about his stinky clothes. I thought that it smelled in our room and wanted him to put them in our laundry basket."

Maria giggled to herself, "You're right Mama. Papa's clothes do stink."

"Hey!" Dmitry joking acted offended, "I'm clean now!"

"Yes, you are, and you smell wonderful," Anya complimented and gave Dmitry a kiss on his cheek.

However, when she pulled back, she had a sly smile on her face. Dmitry knew that look, Anya was definitely planning something and knowing from past experience, he would probably be the target.

"Since your Papa and I didn't reach an agreement, I say there is only one way to settle this."

Dmitry arched his eyebrow in confusion and he noticed Ivan's and Maria's looks of confusion.

"Time for a pillow fight."

Before he could react, Dmitry was hit in the face with a fluffy pillow. He raised his arms to shield his face from any other impending attack.

"C'mon kids, help me get your Papa!" Anya encouraged Maria and Ivan, giving them pillows of their own.

"Attack!" Ivan and Maria screamed in unison as they began whacking their father with pillows. Dmitry tried to shield their attacks, but the odds were not in his favor. Finding a brief pause in their hits, Dmitry scooped Ivan up and shook him around, gently enough so Ivan was laughing uncontrollably and dropped his pillow. Dmitry then dropped him on the bed and Ivan was elated from bouncing up after being dropped on the bed. Chasing after Maria next, she was smart and eluded her father's grasp and sprinted into another room. That left only Anya.

"Looks like your troops have left you," Dmitry joked as he approached Anya. She was armed with a pillow and stood in a defensive stance.

"They do say if you want something done, do it yourself," Anya replied, her stance unwavering. A couple more seconds passed, and Dmitry made his move. He went for Anya's waist and successfully wrapped his arms around her but couldn't avoid a few hits to his face and head. He scooped her up and twirled her around. After a few rotations, he put her down and held the pillow, so she couldn't hit him anymore. Anya was smiling and giggling, then time seemed to freeze as she looked into his eyes. "Jerk," she said jokingly.

"I know," Dmitry replied, smiling, "but I'm your jerk."

With that Dmitry and Anya leaned in for a kiss. Dmitry thought about how good it felt to kiss Anya. Her lips were soft, warm, and tender. Recently, they hadn't had much alone time and the only kisses they shared were brief and quick in the morning and at night. Time seemed to freeze, and the events of the day were forgotten. It wasn't until Dmitry felt a pillow hit his back that he pulled back. He turned around, holding his hands up in surrender. Maria had returned and threw her pillow at Dmitry's back.

"Alright, I admit defeat."

"Good job kids! We won!" Anya congratulated Ivan and Maria, giving them high fives.

"I don't know about you three, but I'm hungry. Let's make dinner together," Anya suggested.

"I wouldn't have it any other way," Dmitry said as the Sudayevs made their way out of the bedroom.


	11. Is that my shirt?

_**11\. "Is that my shirt?"**_

"Anya!"

Anya looked up over her book and sighed. She hated it when Dmitry yelled from the other side of the apartment. Both were too stubborn to get up and challenged the other to see who would get up first. She returned to her book before shouting back, "I can't hear you Dima!"

"Anya!"

"Ugh, this man is incorrigible," Anya grunted, setting her book down and hopping off the couch. She angrily shuffled into their bedroom and had to duck to avoid a shoe being thrown across the room.

"Dima! What is going on in here?!" Anya exclaimed, scanning the mess Dmitry was currently making in their bedroom. There were shirts, pants, and shoes scattered around the room.

"Have you seen my navy flannel shirt?" Dmitry questioned out of breath, as he exited the closet, "I've been look—"

Dmitry interrupted himself as he looked at Anya. He opened his mouth, stuttered a few indistinguishable noises, and then cleared his throat. "Is that my shirt?" Dmitry asked, pointing to the shirt Anya was currently wearing.

Anya and Dmitry had just moved in together and they were still working out adjusting to living with another person. Anya nervously tugged the oversized shirt closer to her body and blushed.

"Y-yeah it is. I hope you don't mind," she offered him a small smile.

Dmitry smiled wide and took Anya's hand. As he rubbed small circles on the back of her hand, he joked, "It's a tad big on you."

Anya gave a small huff of disagreement, "I don't care. It's warm and soft and smells like you."

Dmitry raised his hands, "Hey, I never said it looked bad on you," and he leaned down to kiss her temple.

After he pulled away, both stared and smiled at each other. "However," Dmitry began, "I am jealous that it doesn't work the other way. Your clothing won't fit me."

Anya playfully swatted his arm and gave a small giggle. "You're such a dork, Dima. Now clean up our room, you made a mess."

Dmitry pouted like a child being told to clean up his toys. "You know this is indirectly your fault, right? If you didn't borrow my shirt, I wouldn't have made a mess," Dmitry reasoned jokingly.

Anya rolled her eyes, "Let's cut to the chase, what do I get if I help you clean up _your_ mess?"

Dmitry thought about it for a second," You get to choose the movie for tonight's movie night."

"What else?"

"What else?" Dmitry sputtered before continuing to think, "Um, how about we also get dinner from your favorite restaurant?"

"Deal. I was going to help you anyway, but thanks for the offer, Dima," Anya gleefully replied, standing up on her toes and pecking him on the cheek. With that she left him there and began to fold Dmitry's shirts. He stood there for a couple seconds, frozen with disbelief, and then proceeded to join her.


	12. I don't want to go without you

_**12\. "I don't want to go without you."**_

"Crap. Dead end," Dmitry cursed loudly, trying to catch his breath.

He spun around to look at their makeshift barricade that they threw together. His heart sunk through the pounding in his chest when he saw it weaken. Each hit on the door knocking over a piece and causing the structure to wobble precariously. All his life, Dmitry had to think on his feet. He began to run over to the collapsing furniture, but a hand grabbed his arm.

"Dmitry," Anya began, looking surprisingly calm considering how quickly and how far they ran. However, Dmitry caught the sad look in her eyes. "You need to go."

"What?" Dmitry asked in disbelief, "No, you're coming too. I got you tangled in this mess. We can find a way to escape—" Dmitry held back adding the word "together", afraid of the weight of that word.

"No, Dima," Anya protested. Dmitry's heart swelled at the use of his childhood nickname. "They want me. You and Vlad can escape from this. They'll only keep looking if I go."

Dmitry could feel a pit in his stomach and a pain in his heart. No, this wasn't how this was supposed to end up. It seemed like a foolproof plan: find a fake Anastasia, get out of Russia, and get rich. However, Dmitry didn't expect to develop feelings for an amnesic streetsweeper and in the process send her to her death.

"Anya," Dmitry began, his voice breaking slightly, "I don't want to go without you."

Anya gave him a small smile. His statement warmed and hurt her heart simultaneously. She knew this was the only way. It comforted her knowing that Vlad and Dmitry would live.

Opening her mouth to speak, she closed it immediately, unsure of what to say. She too had begun to develop a fondness for Dmitry. Despite their stubborn personalities and small, petty arguments, they matched well. It was a harmonious balance. And now this was an end to their journey.

"You must," Anya whispered, grabbing his hand softly, "Thank you, Dmitry. For everything these past few months. I'll miss you."

Anya gently rose up and kissed him. What seemed like minutes was only seconds. Both felt fireworks. Despite the coldness and their chapped lips, it was the warmest kiss they had ever shared.

Anya pulled back, leaving Dmitry in shock. She reached down, picked up a fallen book, and threw it at the window. The glass shattered, also shattering Dmitry's daze.

"Go!" Anya shouted, pushing Dmitry towards the window as the barricade fell. Still completely mesmerized, he did as he was told. However, before exiting the windowsill, he turned and faced Anya. Dmitry took in one last look, staring into her piercing blue eyes.

Suddenly, the soldiers broke through the door and pushed away their fallen barricade. Dmitry broke eye contact with Anya, glanced at the soldiers, took a breath and jumped.

Anya and the soldiers were surprised to see Dmitry reenter the room. Not caring about anything else, Dmitry ran over to Anya and stood in front of her, shielding her from the soldiers.

"Dima! What are you doing, you idiot?" Anya asked furiously. God, he knew how to push her. Even when she was about to save his life, his bullheaded personality wouldn't let her.

"I couldn't leave you, Anya. If this is my fate, I want my last moments to be spent with you," Dmitry confessed.

Anya smiled and kissed Dmitry's hand sweetly. "I wish we had more time."

"Me too."


	13. When I'm with you, nothing else matters

_**13."When I'm with you, nothing else matters."**_

Dmitry tugged on his collar for the tenth time that night. The stiff material making it difficult to breathe, as if the anxiety of the night wasn't making it hard enough. He was so lost in thought that he didn't notice Anya walk up beside him.

"Hey," Anya said softly, her white gloved hand gently reached up and stopped him from tugging at his collar.

He looked down at her, his face still etched with worry. She gave him a small smile, placed her hand on his cheek and gave him a peck on his other cheek. Dmitry's expression brightened, and he returned a smirk.

"You look beautiful tonight," Dmitry complimented her, grabbing Anya's coat and helping her put it on.

"Thank you, Dima. You look very handsome as well," Anya replied as she slipped her arms through the sleeves, "Although I cannot wait until I can take off these heels."

Dmitry chuckled, despite being elegantly dressed, Anya was still Anya. "Don't even get me started on this suit."

Dmitry offered her his arm and they walked out of their apartment and down the stairs to the car waiting on the street. Dmitry felt was still very nervous, his palms becoming so clammy that he wiped them on his pants occasionally. Anya gently intertwined their fingers and leaned in closer to him. When they would arrive at her Nana's gathering they wouldn't be able to show as much public affection for each other. The privacy of the car granted them a few extra moments together.

Pulling up to their destination, Anya and Dmitry both took deep breaths. "Are you ready?" Anya asked nervously.

"As ready as I'll ever be," Dmitry replied with a cocky smile that failed to hide his own nerves.

"Thank you for coming with me Dmitry. You don't know how much it means to me that you're here," Anya sweetly whispered.

"When I'm with you, nothing else matters."

Viktor opened the door and Anya and Dmitry walked out side by side.

Maria was having a small formal dinner with some ex-aristocrats. Normally, she would respect Anya and Dmitry's privacy, but she insisted Anya come since other close family members would be attending, such as her Aunts, Olga and Xenia. Anya knew Dmitry would hate this type of gathering but asked for his support since he would be a familiar face and someone who wouldn't be judgmental of her lifestyle choice. Also, it gave Dmitry another excuse to take a bath even though he loathed the attire appropriate for the night.

Upon entering, their names were announced. Dmitry should have expected it, but they announced her with her title. Anya gave him a quick look and rolled her eyes but carried on with dignity and grace. He tried his best to avoid the gazes of others and to focus on escorting Anya. Once they entered, Anya immediately went over to Maria. She excitedly whispered something to Maria and they engaged in a private conversation. Dmitry stood back waiting for Anya to give him a cue of what to do. Maria and Anya looked over at him and Dmitry gave her a confused look, to which Maria and Anya simple giggled, covering their mouths with their hands. Promptly, Dmitry made his way over to the pair and politely bowed to Maria.

"Rise young man. There is no need for formalities. You are part of the family now," Maria commanded firmly.

Dmitry nodded and gave her a smile.

The night carried on slowly. Dmitry engaged in polite conversation with some of Anya's family members. However, he rotated between Anya and Vlad when moving to the next conversation. He never felt comfortable enough talking with anyone by himself. After nearly an hour of socializing, Dmitry stepped out to get some fresh air on the balcony.

He fiddled with his hands, leaning over the balcony. The scene was serene and peaceful, a wonderful contrast to the busy happenings inside. As he gazed at the stars, he heard the click of heels on stone.

"Hello stranger," Anya greeted, leaning over the balcony next to Dmitry, their arms touching.

"What are you doing out here?" Dmitry asked curiously, "Your Nana is probably missing you."

Anya looked up at him, her eyebrow raised. "I think Nana can last a few minutes without me. Besides, I missed my husband."

She leaned over and rested her head against his arm and intertwined their fingers.

"Are you going to get in trouble for this?" Dmitry asked, referring to their proximity and public display of affection.

Anya scoffed, "Dmitry, who cares what they think? If I want to hold hands with my husband, I'm going to hold hands with my husband."

Dmitry just smiled. Despite the glamour and poise, Anya was still the same woman he fell in love with. The, no, his royal mess.

"We also behaved ourselves for a good hour or so," Anya added.

"Doesn't your husband get a say in this?" he asked jokingly, nudging her with his shoulder.

"No, because last time you tried to decide for yourself, you ran away, and I had to chase you all around Paris. In heels, Dmitry!"

Dmitry chuckled and smiled, sighing contently. There was a brief, silent peace before Anya spoke again.

"Also, I wanted to speak with you tonight… alone," Anya said vaguely.

"About what?"

At this point, Dmitry had been surprised by Anya enough in their five years together that little shocked him anymore. He had learned to stop guessing because Anya was unpredictable, and it saved him some time.

Anya turned to him and grabbed both of his hands in hers. Then she looked up at him, her eyes revealing her vulnerability and trust in him.

"We're going to have a baby again, Dima," Anya said happily, her eyes teary.

Forgetting all about appearances, Dmitry scooped up Anya in his arms and twirled her around. He peppered kisses on her cheek and couldn't stop smiling. "I love you so much, Anya."

"I love you too, Dima."

"Anya, Dmitry, I was sent to fetch you. Dinner is—" Vlad cut himself off once he saw that he was interrupting something.

"I apologize, was I interrupting—" Vlad started before Dmitry cut him off.

"Vlad, I'm going to be a father again! Anya is pregnant!" Dmitry exclaimed excitedly.

"Congratulations you two!" Vlad shouted, running up and giving them both a hug. The trio laughed together, remembering their adventures together, which seemed like lifetimes ago.

"Shall we go inside for dinner?" Anya suggested after the three settled down a bit. Dmitry offered her his arm and they walked into the dining room.

Everyone else was also entering and sat down around the same time. Anya sat in between Maria and Dmitry, with Maria at the head of the table. To Dmitry's right sat Aunt Olga. She gave him a pointed look, but Dmitry pretended not to notice. Anya just told him wonderful news and he wasn't going to let her judgmental family ruin his night.

"How is the little one?" Olga asked Dmitry when the second course was served. Dmitry nearly choked on his wine. Olga hadn't talked to him all evening and suddenly asked him about his daughter.

"She's good. She just turned two last November."

"Wonderful. I actually wanted to propose to you an opportunity for her," Olga said joyfully.

"Thank you very much, but we couldn't possibly accept," Dmitry respectfully declined.

"No, no, I insist," Olga waved him off, "She would have the chance to receive the finest education."

Dmitry thought to himself how wonderful that would be. Although she was only two, Dmitry knew his daughter—and now children—were destined for a better upbringing than he had. He wanted them to focus on school and earn finer jobs than the ones he had.

"That is what I want for her," Dmitry confessed, "Anya and I have money saved so she can go to school and not have to work in the factories."

"I couldn't agree more," Olga replied gleefully, "Why should she have to live a life below her station, especially with her bloodline?"

Dmitry clenched his jaw and cursed in his head. He knew their was a catch with Olga's kindess. Every time he had interacted with her prior, she just acted like he didn't exist. He wouldn't make a scene though and instead tried to keep his composure.

"Maria is just as much Romanov as she is Sudayev. Anya and I want the best for her and sacrifice everything for her happiness."

"If you are willing to sacrifice everything, then you should have no problem with her living with me then."

Dmitry stood up from his chair and nearly shouted at her. However, the watchful eyes of everyone at the table turned to him.

"Dima, what's wrong?" Anya whispered, rubbing his arm with her hand.

"Your Aunt wants to take Maria away from us," Dmitry said flatly.

Anya gave a look of shock at her Aunt. Surely there was some misunderstanding and Dmitry was jumping to conclusions.

"Not take away," Olga clarified, "The child would just simply live with me while receiving her education."

Anya gestured for Dmitry to sit down and he dutifully obeyed. She could tell he was still fuming though and rested her hand on his leg to calm him down. Although, she was becoming increasingly angry at what she was hearing.

"My apologies Aunt Olga, but what do you mean?"

"I was simply telling your husband about an opportunity for Maria. With both of you working all the time, struggling to survive, Maria is probably missing out on opportunities to better her life. She risks malnourishment and falling ill in your drafty apartment."

Anya looked as if she were about to explode. Dmitry, despite being angry with Olga himself, was very uncomfortable in between the two women. He had seen Anya fight before and she looked as if she were ready to pounce. Although, logically he knew she wouldn't resort to physical violence. Especially not with her aunt and her other family around.

"I respectfully decline Aunt Olga. You will not take Maria from us. I am very disappointed in the way you have been acting tonight, especially to Dmitry," her hard gaze then moved around the table to the other guests, "I know you may not think I hear your whispers, but I know what you all are saying. Quite frankly, I do not care what you think of my new lifestyle and the choices I've made. Dmitry, Maria, and I are very happy together. Dmitry may be "below my station" according to many of you, but none of that matters to me. He is a good man, a wonderful husband, and a loving father. Honestly, he didn't even want to come tonight, but knew what it meant to me and my Nana."

"I am also disappointed in many of you," Maria added sternly, "Shouldn't we be happy for Anastasia's sake? She is alive, healthy, and is a wife and mother. Four years ago, I was sure she wasn't even alive… If any of you have any quips about my grandson-in-law or Anastasia's life, you are free to go."

All of the guests sat there quietly, partially in shock at the mood of the evening. Vlad awkwardly spilled wine on himself and luckily the small distraction broke the tension

Just as Anya and Dmitry were about to leave, Anya heard someone calling their names.

"Anastasia, Dmitry…" Olga called out walking briskly to catch up to them, "I want to offer my sincere apologies. I should not have treated you the way I did, Dmitry, or say some of the things I said… Looking at both of you, reminds me of how my brother looked at your mother, Nastya. They loved each other despite the rumors and gossip. I suppose I'm still living in the old days, when I thought everything was beautiful and perfect. Please, I hope you accept my apology."

Before Anya could speak, Dmitry beat her to it.

"We accept your apology and thank you for it."

Olga and he exchanged smiles.

When Dmitry and Anya entered their apartment, Anya immediately kicked off her shoes.

"What a night!" Anya exclaimed, shimmying out of her coat with Dmitry's help, "I don't know about you, but I'm exhausted."

"Is everything okay? Can I get you anything?" Dmitry asked kindly.

"Yes, Dima, everything is fine. I could use your help getting out of this dress though," she turned around, so he could unzip her dress.

Not caring about how she looked, Anya stepped out of her dress and hung it over her arm, wearing nothing but her undergarments.

"Do you need help getting out of your suit?" Anya asked.

Dmitry gave her a sly smirk, "If you're offering..."

Anya gave a fake surprised look and giggled, hitting him on the arm before moving to untie his tie. "Not tonight Mr. Sudayev. You can dream all you want."

Dmitry leaned in closer to rest his hands on her sides and kiss her forehead, "I don't have to dream when I've already experienced it."

Anya blushed before shoving him lightly. "If you're going to be like this, you can undress yourself."

Dmitry still with an untied tie and unbuttoned shirt, followed Anya into the bedroom. He quickly stripped off his suit, hung it up, and slipped into his pajamas. Anya had already changed into her nightgown and began washing her face. When she returned, she found him lying on the bed already, but on top of the sheets. She gave him a smile and began brushing her hair, looking at him through the mirror.

"Thank you for tonight, Dima. I'm sorry for the way my Aunt and everyone else treated you."

Dmitry scooted off the bed and stood behind Anya, wrapping his arms around her.

"It's okay, I expected it, I suppose," he then placed a soft kiss on her cheek, "thank you for standing up for me."

Anya smiled and placed her hand on his bicep, "Of course! I couldn't stand to hear them say such unkind things. You handled it very well."

"For a second there, I was afraid you were about to physically attack someone," Dmitry confessed.

"If the circumstances were different, I might have," Anya confessed, "I couldn't bear to have either of our children taken away from us."

"I couldn't either," Dmitry said softly.

There was a brief moment of silence between the two. Dmitry then picked Anya up and placed her on the bed gently. Getting under the covers, Anya scooted close to Dmitry so that her face rested on his chest. She held his hand and gave him a short, kiss goodnight.

"Hopefully, Nana doesn't host another event like that anytime soon," Anya chuckled.

"If she does, I'll be there for you again," Dmitry mumbled into her hair.

"Dima, I couldn't ask you to do that again," Anya countered.

"When I'm with you, nothing else matters," Dmitry reassured her, "We have each other's backs and will get through it together."

 **Hope you enjoyed this trio of updates. I currently have 27/45 prompts completed and will try my best to upload those soon. They most likely will be in chunks because I'm not great at updating regularly. Currently, a couple prompts are works in progress, a few have ideas of what the story will be, and there are some that I'm not sure what to write about yet. Unfortunately, my writing gets carried away sometimes and I write things much longer than a drabble. Additionally, I have some ideas for longer stories such as a Hamilton crossover as well as a "The Code" AU. Expect a Father's Day story for Dima in the near future. That is something I will definitely have up soon. Thank you again for reading.**

 **~Jazzy Euphonium**


	14. Is this romantic enough for you?

_**14\. "Is this romantic enough for you?"**_

Anya was running around the apartment, making sure everything was just right. Well, as perfect as it could look with their few possessions. It was Anya and Dmitry's six-month anniversary and Anya wanted to celebrate by having a romantic evening. They both were so busy working and establishing their new life together that they hadn't had a night to themselves in a while.

Anya had been let out of work early, which gave her more time to prepare. She put her skills and experience to good use, sweeping the floor, dusting, and preparing dinner. Dmitry usually came home an hour and a half later than Anya, so she had plenty of time.

Despite living there for only six-months, they had already made their quaint apartment their own. They had a small couch which had seen better days, a dinner table full of scratches, a wobbly table that was adorned with photos, two mismatched chairs, and a second-hand bookshelf with a few books. Anya decided to use a plain, white sheet as a makeshift tablecloth and set out plates and cups as if they were dining in a fine Parisian café. She stood back and admired her work after adding a small cup filled with a few wildflowers to the center of the table.

 _I hope Dmitry likes this._

Anya took a breath and smiled at her work. When she checked the clock, it read six thirty-five.

"Perfect, Dmitry should be getting home soon. I can't wait for him to see."

Anya quickly went to the bedroom to change into a simple blue dress. Five minutes later, Dmitry entered their apartment. He looked tired from work, but his face lit up when he saw the apartment. He was filled with surprise and left speechless.

"Anya!" he called out.

"Dmitry, welcome home," Anya greeted, giving him a hug and a peck on the cheek.

Dmitry returned both before asking, "What's all this?"

"I figured we've been so busy lately that we deserved a romantic night. Also, we've been together six months now and I thought we could celebrate a little," Anya explained, slightly nervous suddenly. She grew to love Dmitry even more over the past few months and wanted to do something special for him.

"Is this romantic enough for you?" Anya asked quickly, playing with her fingers and looking away for a second. She didn't know why she felt like this. Normally she was her independent, stubborn, strong headed self around Dmitry, but sometimes he made her knees feel weak and her heart beat a little faster.

Dmitry reached up to cup her cheek and to gently turn her head so their eyes met. "This is perfect, Anya. I love you so much. Thank you for doing this."

Dmitry gestured to the room around them and then leaned in and kissed her.

"I feel awful though. I didn't do anything for you," Dmitry confessed.

Dmitry's statement couldn't be farther from the truth. In the unlikeliest of odds, their paths crossed, and he did more for her than either could ever imagine. He helped her remember her identity, he helped her find her family, he put her needs above his own, and he continued to make sacrifices for her every day, even though she was very capable of taking care of herself. He loved and respected every aspect of her, even when they disagreed.

Anya shook her head. "You're wrong, Dima. You've done more for me than anyone else. I cannot thank you enough for that," she stated with the same conviction as when she kissed him six-months ago.

Dmitry was at a loss for words, but no words needed to be said. His smile and hands resting on her back said it all. After so much loss in their lives, they found each other and savored every moment together, enjoying their well-deserved peace.


	15. Take my jacket

_**15\. "Take my jacket."**_

Anya took a deep breath and exhaled, the cool breeze of the night soothing her. She looked out at the Seine and memorized everything she could about the moment. The way the breeze carried a fresh, clean smell. The sound of the water hitting the side of the canal. The rich, warm colors coming from the sunset. The feel of strong, warm arms enveloping her from behind. Anya smiled and moved her hands to rest on top of Dmitry's and bring him in closer. She felt him chuckle, his deep laugh vibrating from his chest. She felt warm, soft lips press against her temple.

"Are you cold?" Dmitry asked, breaking the silence.

"No," Anya responded honestly. She was on a high from recent events and did not seem to be aware of the cooler night temperatures. But the goosebumps on her arms said otherwise.

Dmitry let go of her to bend down and open his suitcase. "You're so stubborn," he said shaking his head, but had a bright smile plastered on his face.

Anya missed his warmth and watched him search through his few belongings. "Take my jacket. It's clean, don't worry," Dmitry reassured her as he helped her put it on, "Also, it might make it easier to walk around unnoticed."

He gestured to her extravagant red dress that still sparkled when the light hit it. She gave him a bashful smile, and Dmitry felt his heart flutter. To him, she was beautiful no matter what she looked like.

"Where to next, princess?" Dmitry asked, offering his arm.

She gladly accepted it, wrapping hers around his. "Wherever you go, I'll follow."


	16. That looks hard Let's switch

**16\. "That looks hard. Let's switch."**

"That looks hard. Let's switch."

"What?" Anya asked in disbelief, as she stepped off the chair she was standing on, "No way. I am perfectly capable of doing this Dima."

Anya and Dmitry had just moved into their new apartment… well new to them. It was a modest apartment that was bare minus the few articles of furniture that came with it. Despite it looking quite bleak, Dmitry and Anya tried to make it feel like home. Anya was more enthusiastic about it then Dmitry, who still had insecurities about his relationship with Anya. He was saddened by the fact that he couldn't provide for Anya in the way she deserved, especially with her being royalty. Currently, they were moving in new furniture they bought, hanging curtains, and adorning the empty spaces with small decorations. Dmitry chose to do the heavy lifting with the furniture while Anya decided to hang the curtains on the windows. However, Dmitry noticed her precariously standing on a wobbly chair to hang them.

"Anya," Dmitry chuckled, "are you serious?"

She glared at him, "Of course I'm serious. I can do this by myself, but I appreciate your offer."

Despite thanking him, her tone was icy cold. Dmitry watched as she turned to step back on the chair, it wobbled a little due to the uneven weight. He supported her by gently resting his hand on her back. His vertically challenged wife was determined to hang the curtains and he wasn't going to argue with her.

"Dima!" she exclaimed, "Go finish bringing the furniture in. I'm fine."

Dmitry raised his hands in defeat, "Fine! But if you fall, I'm not cuddling with you."

Anya rolled her eyes. Dmitry was being such a drama queen and besides, it would be his loss since he liked cuddling more than Anya did. After she heard Dmitry leave the apartment, she returned to her task. Luckily, he left her alone and continued to carry in their new furniture.

Anya was almost finished with the curtains but found the last one caught on the hook. She pulled the curtain gently to free it. However, it wouldn't budge. Again, she tried to tug it, with little success. Trying again, Anya leaned over to try to pull the curtain off directly. However, she felt the chair flip over and suddenly she was falling.

 _Fuck. Dmitry was right._

Expecting to hit the ground, Anya instead felt herself being caught by none other than Dmitry.

"Woah, woah, are you okay?" Dmitry immediately after he caught her.

"Yeah, thanks for catching me, Dima," Anya said breathlessly before pecking him on the cheek.

Dmitry smiled at Anya, still holding her in his arms. "Is it too soon to say that I was right?"

Anya rolled her eyes and huffed sarcastically, "You should have just let me fall."

"No, because I said that if you fell, I wasn't going to cuddle with you," Dmitry reminded her, "It would be a lose-lose situation."

Anya laughed, and brushed her finger against the dimple that appeared when he smiled. She hadn't noticed it at first but found herself more and more aware of its presence as the time spent together increased.

"Oh, you're right," Anya jokingly agreed before something in her eyes changed.

Anya found herself staring at Dmitry's lips and kissed him fiercely. It took Dmitry a second to register what was happening, but he held her closer and deepened the kiss.

"Bed?" Anya asked between kisses.

"To cuddle?" Dmitry asked teasingly.

"I had something a little different in mind you dork," Anya smiled before kissing him again.

 **I'm back! Not really unfortunately :/ College is kicking my butt this semester but I promise more updates with during Thanksgiving break and Winter break. I'll have plenty of time to write and to upload. Thank you for sticking with this "story" if you're still here :) It is much appreciated!**

 **~Jazzy Euphonium**


	17. I can't be mad at you

**17\. "I can't be mad at you."**

 **Author's note: Warning. This chapter deals with a sad subject that unfortunately affects many people. This was heavily inspired after re-watching a certain** ** _Friends_** **episode with Monica and Chandler, so some dialogue is NOT mine. I hope I did this justice.**

"Okay… thank you," Anya said quietly as Dmitry walked into the room.

"Hey honey, who was that?" Dmitry asked causally, picking up the grocery bags on the floor and putting them up on the counter.

"I-it was Dr. Clarkson…" Anya trailed off.

Dmitry froze as he opened the fridge door to put the eggs away. His jaw clenched and he swallowed hard. Quickly putting the eggs away, he turned to Anya and tried his best to calm his nerves.

"What did Dr. Clarkson say? Is there a problem with you? Is there a problem with me?"

Anya noticed Dmitry nervously twiddling his fingers, twisting his ring back and forth. She slowly walked closer to him, resting her hands in his and staring into his eyes.

"He said the results came in… and it's both of us."

"What?" Dmitry asked for further clarification.

"Apparently, your sperm have low motility and I have an inhospitable environment."

"What does that mean for us though," Dmitry asked cautiously even though he knew the answer.

"It means," Anya said with her voice cracking, "we can keep trying but there is a chance that this won't happen for us."

"Oh god," Dmitry cried, lowering his head so his forehead touched Anya's.

Anya felt tears on her cheeks, but she couldn't tell if they were hers or Dmitry's or both. She pulled him in for a hug and held onto him tightly.

"I'm sorry," Dmitry repeated over and over again into her neck.

"Dima, why are you apologizing?" Anya asked sorrowfully, brushing the hair out of his eyes.

"It's my fault we can't have kids," Dmitry cried, "You must hate me right now."

Anya's heart ached now, because she might not be able to have children and because her husband thought he was to blame.

"Dima," Anya said soothingly, "I can't be mad at you. Like I said, we both have our problems."

"You should be," Dmitry argued.

"No, I shouldn't. There is no one to blame in this situation. It is what it is."

Dmitry looked up at her and was shocked by her words. "But you want kids so badly…"

"Don't you want them too?" Anya checked.

"Yeah but—"

"We'll find a way to get them one way or another," Anya vowed, "I married you first and our relationship is just as important to me."

Dmitry cupped her cheek and gave her a kiss, determined to show her how much he loved her. When he pulled away, he continued to kiss her face rapidly.

"Dima," Anya giggled vivaciously.

"I love you so much," Dmitry vocalized, "I can't be mad at you too. Thanks for choosing me instead of some rich guy."

Anya beamed, "I'd choose you every day and any day over one of those guys. Even if their sperm have better motility."

Dmitry rolled his eyes and tickled Anya's side. Once their laughter subsided, Dmitry pulled Anya in for another hug. They swayed back and forth, hearing each other's heartbeats and let the news settle.


	18. I love you, but you need to shut up

**_18._** **"I love you, but you need to shut up."**

"No, absolutely not," Dmitry said getting up from his place at the table.

"Papa you're being unfair," Maria whined.

"Maria," he said firmly, pointing his finger at her, "My word is final. End of discussion."

He hurried out of the apartment, slamming the door on his way out. Maria grunted in frustration and left the table as well, stomping to her room and slamming the door as well. Anya sighed and rubbed her temples with her fingers. "What am I going to do with them?" Anya asked half to herself, half to the remaining children at the table.

Ivan chimed in, "I think Papa is being unreasonable, but I am definitely not going to tell him that."

Pierre continued eating his food, voicing his opinion with a full mouth, "I don't really care."

Anya rolled her eyes and smiled softly, "Pierre, please finish what is in your mouth first and Ivan, please watch your brother. I have to go have a little talk with your father."

Anya grabbed her coat and walked out of the apartment, ready to deal with her hot-headed, stubborn husband. She found him where she expected him to be, on the roof watching the city below. He had always found the hustle and bustle of the city comforting.

"Dima?" she called out softly to the figured in front of her. He didn't respond so she approached him slowly. Even from a distance, she could see the muscles in the back tense and the hard set of his jaw. She gently reached out and stroked his arm.

"Dima, we need to talk about Maria. I think you're being a little hard," Anya said sternly.

"Am I?" he asked sarcastically.

"Dima, it's just a dance. She's not marrying the boy. Maria is seventeen for god's sake. She's excited that a boy even asked her."

"Yes, but it's the boy that I have a problem with. Léon Elouan, he's not good enough for her."

Anya scoffed, "Dmitry, it's not for us to decide who Maria loves—"

"Woah, no one said anything about love. She's too young for that."

Anya threw her arms up exasperated, "Dima, she's not six anymore!"

He bent his head down and Anya reevaluated her approach.

"Love, she's almost a woman now. I know you may not like it, but she's growing up… She'll always be your little girl inside though."

Dmitry reached up and took Anya's hand, giving it a small squeeze.

"I just want to protect her. I don't like that boy," Dmitry said, still with a protective tone.

Anya just laughed, earning her a glare from Dmitry. "I love you, but you need to shut up. Maria is perfectly capable to taking care of herself. Also, shouldn't we give him a chance?"

"No," Dmitry said seriously.

Anya leaned into Dmitry's side, resting her head on his shoulder. "Nana gave you a chance after seeing what a good person you are."

Dmitry sighed, realizing how irrational he is being. "I know… I suppose I should apologize now."

"Yes, yes you should," Anya agreed, content that he realized how ridiculous he was being.

Dmitry and Anya walked back hand in hand to their apartment. Ivan and Pierre had finished eating and began to clean up. "I'll help the boys with the dishes, you talk to Maria," Anya ordered.

Dmitry gave her a small smile before walking towards Maria's room. He took a deep breath before knocking on the door. "Maria, may I come in?"

With no response, he tried the door and was relieved to find it unlocked. She was sitting on the fire escape looking out. Despite the tension in the air, she looked at peace observing the city below. Maria took after in her mother in many ways, but also had many commonalities with her father. When she was younger, Dmitry would sit with Maria on his lap and watch the bustling vibe of the city.

"Masha…" Dmitry began softly.

"If you're here to tell me I can't go to the dance, I don't want to hear it," Maria said bluntly, taking Dmitry by surprise. He knew she was upset, but he didn't like that she had an attitude with him. Normally, he would have scolded her for taking that tone with him, but instead he just sighed.

"No, I'm actually here to apologize," Dmitry said, sincerely.

"Is it because Mama told you to come?" Maria asked harshly, still refusing to look at Dmitry. He slowly approached her and sat down beside her.

"Partially, I'm not going to lie about that," Dmitry chuckled softly, "But honestly I came to apologize for the way I reacted. I didn't realize how important this dance is to you."

Maria continued to stare out at the city and refused to look at her father. Despite her still guarded stance, Dmitry noticed her expression soften slightly.

"Listen, I'm sorry for the way I reacted. I want to protect you from any guy that even looks at you because you're my little girl. In my eyes, you're still the first baby I held; the little girl that saw me as her knight; the girl who stepped on my shoes when we danced…"

"Papa," Maria said after he drifted off, "I'll always be your little girl."

With that, she scooted closer to Dmitry to give him a hug. He gladly wrapped his arms around her in return. "I'm sorry if I disappointed you Papa," Maria said into his shirt.

"Masha, you could never disappoint me… well unless you get pregnant at your age."

Maria playfully slapped her father's arm and pulled back. "Papa! Gross!"

"It is a legitimate fear of mine. You're old enough to be making your own decisions and I just want you to be happy," Dmitry said honestly.

"Papa, it's just a dance. It doesn't mean I am going to marry Léon."

"I know… your Mama said the same thing to me," Dmitry said, silently cursing that Anya was once again correct.

A comfortable silence fell between father and daughter as they smiled at each other.

"Glad to see you two made up," Anya said from the doorway.

"Yes, I am too," Dmitry smiled and gestured for her to come join them.

Anya walked across the room, grabbed Dmitry's hand and stood behind him, resting on his shoulders.

"Technically, Papa, you never explicitly said I could go to the dance with Léon," Maria pointed out.

Dmitry rolled his eyes and looked up at Anya, "She gets this from you."

"I don't know what you're talking about," Anya said coyly, "I don't act like this at all."

Dmitry cleared his throat, "Maria, you have my permission to go to the dance with this boy."

Maria laughed, "Papa! He's going to come to the apartment to pick me up and you're going to meet him. You better learn his name by then."

"Prefect. I get the opportunity to judge him firsthand."

This time, it was Anya who slapped him lightly on the arm.

"Maria, I'm sure Léon is a lovely boy whose parents taught him proper manners. Your father should know better than to make a judgement before meeting someone or that first impressions are not always what they seem," Anya scolded Dmitry lightly.

"Mama, what did you see in Papa?" Maria asked, partially joking.

"Well, he didn't have money and wasn't very clean and he did have a stubborn, brash personality… but when the moment came, he was willing to sacrifice everything for someone that he loved. His stubbornness became determination, his lack of money became a selflessness to provide for others… his dirty smell still exists though," Anya teased.

"I believe you forgot to mention my good looks," Dmitry added, taking Anya's hand and kissing the back of it.

Maria and Anya simply giggled and the three looked out, watching the bustling city.

 **Wow. It's been a while since I even looked at the drabbles. If you are still reading from the beginning, thank you for sticking with these drabbles. They have been a lot of fun to write. Also, hopefully you and your families are well! It's a crazy time we are living in right now.**

 **~Jazzy Euphonium**


	19. I love your smile

**_19._** **"I love your smile."**

"C'mon Dima!" Anya excitedly exclaimed as she pulled Dmitry across the boardwalk. Dmitry just shook his head and rolled his eyes before reluctantly letting Anya drag him. He wasn't as enthusiastic as she was, resulting in her having to use both her hands to make him move faster.

"What could possibly be so exciting that we have to run?" Dmitry asked, half annoyed. The last time Anya dragged him somewhere, they ended up running from the police because they weren't supposed to be in the park at three in the morning.

"Don't act so grumpy, Dima," Anya scolded him lightly, before stopping in front of what appeared to be a large box. "Bienvenue, Monsieur!" Anya announced proudly.

"It's… a box," Dmitry stated bluntly.

Anya just rolled her eyes and threaded her arm around his. "No silly, it's a photo booth."

Before Dmitry could say anything, he felt Anya drag him inside. If he wasn't paying attention, he would have definitely hit his head on the entrance. Due to his large frame, Dmitry awkwardly stood in the booth with Anya, unsure of what to do.

"Dima, this isn't very complicated. Sit down," Anya commanded. Dmitry did as he was told, and then found Anya excitedly hopping into his lap. He naturally put his hands on her waist to steady her and smiled once he saw her vibrant smile. "Have you never taken a photo before?" Anya asked curiously.

Dmitry paused before responding, he didn't want to offend her by bringing up her privileged upbringing. However, Anya seemed to get his answer from his silence. "Well, I'm excited to finally get a photo with you," she said before pecking his cheek.

She reached into her pocket to get a coin and placed it into the slot. Within a few seconds, the flash went off and the photos were taken. After being developed, Anya examined the small photos.

"Dima!" Anya exclaimed, "You're not smiling in any of these."

"What? Yes, I am," Dmitry argued, plucking the photo strip from her fingertips and examining them for himself. He wasn't going to tell Anya this, but she was right. The first flash caught him off guard, so he had a grimace on his face instead of the gleaming one Anya wore. In the second photo, he was unprepared for the photo and had a blank expression. Finally, in the last one, he wore a smile, but even Dmitry could tell it was forced.

"You look like you're constipated and the one photo you are 'smiling' in, is completely fake. You're a conman. You should be good at faking a smile," Anya stated, still sitting on his lap with her arms wrapped around his neck.

"Correction. _Was_ a conman," Dmitry argued.

Anya rolled her eyes, "Whatever you are, I want a nice photo with my husband since we didn't get any for our wedding."

Dmitry's expression grew somber. "I'm sorry for that," he apologized softly, "you should have had wedding photos."

Anya took his face into her hands, so he looked at her, "Dima, I didn't mean it that way. I didn't want wedding photos or a cake or a fancy ceremony. We're married and that's all that matters. I just want a photo with you, you dork." Anya kissed him fiercely and melted when he kissed her back. Suddenly, a flash went off and Anya pulled back from Dmitry and smiled. Ignoring the camera, he smiled at her the way he did every morning and every night, with a heart full of a love. Before the final flash went off, he tickled her sides and the camera caught them both mid laugh. Despite both being nearly thirty years old, they still acted like lovesick teenagers, giggling abundantly with little care how they looked to others.

When the photos developed, Anya and Dmitry were satisfied with the final product. They exited the photo booth and continued to enjoy their day at the beach.

At the end of the day, Anya and Dmitry lay on a blanket in the sand. The cool breeze and sea salt in the air relaxed the couple and they lay wrapped in each other's arms. Pulling out the photo to examine it again, Anya looked up at Dmitry who had closed his eyes.

"You have a good smile, Dima," Anya complimented softly, her voice just breaking through the sound of the wind.

"Really? I thought you said I looked constipated," Dmitry joked.

Anya swatted his stomach lightly, "I love your smile. The smile you have when you think I'm not looking at you."


	20. You smell fantastic

_**20\. "You smell fantastic."**_

"Dancing is like making love. It's emotional, it's sexy, it's passionate!" Vlad exclaimed, ignoring the bright red faces staring back at him.

Anya and Dmitry were learning, correction, attempting to learn, the waltz. Anya had managed to ace her ancestry tests that Dmitry and Vlad had fabricated for her and was now learning ballroom etiquette. Yesterday she had surprised Vlad and Dmitry by displaying a nearly perfect curtsy. Today, she and Dmitry are to dance the waltz together, much to their disdain. Both couldn't understand why Vlad wasn't dancing with Anya, but he insisted that his bad back wouldn't do Anya any good. Therefore, he served as their dancing coach, yelling commands without any positive results.

"No, no, Anya. You do not lead. Let Dmitry lead," Vlad scolded, readjusting their hands so that Dmitry was the lead.

"I only lead because he cannot," she spit back.

"If you weren't so stubborn and let me lead, we wouldn't have this problem," Dmitry fired back.

"Alright, enough you two!" Vlad shouted, making one final adjustment, pushing them closer together.

Anya and Dmitry both grunted in disagreement, turning to face each other. Both turned red once they realized how close they were. Despite the height difference, their faces were still incredibly close.

Breaking the silence, Anya said sarcastically, "You smell fantastic."

Scrunching up his face, Dmitry said flatly, "Well fuck you, princess."

"Good suggestion, Dmitry. Maybe then, you two will get along," Vlad said bitterly.

Anya and Dmitry's faces showed looks of disgust. Despite butting heads, they both silently agreed that Vlad was currently not their favorite person.

"Alright, now that I've got your attention. Let's try again," Vlad commanded.

As Vlad counted out the beats, Anya and Dmitry awkwardly moved back and forth, attempting to fall into a rhythm. Maybe it was because of their height difference or their unwillingness to work together that they failed to dance smoothly. After a mere thirty seconds, Dmitry stepped on Anya's foot, earning him a loud squeal and a kick in the shin.

Already extremely frustrated with them, Vlad stood behind Anya, held Dmitry's hands, and began to move with the pair. Eventually, Vlad let go and Dmitry and Anya were able to dance by themselves.

Anya at first refused to meet eyes with Dmitry, but as their movements became more comfortable, she allowed herself to look up at him instead of at the floor. She noticed him do the same. As quickly as their eyes met, Dmitry just as quickly looked away and clenched his jaw. With that they began to move across the room, instead of stepping back and forth in one place. She was surprised by his movements at first but followed his lead and the pair moved as one. Her subconscious felt a certain comfort from his hand on her back and the feeling of strong muscles tensing and relaxing under her fingertips. When he twirled her around and spun her around, she let out a squeal of delight. She felt like she was flying, even if it was for less than 3 seconds. After landing on the ground, Dmitry tried to slow down their momentum. They continued to spin in place, decreasing their speed.

Anya couldn't contain her smile and found herself staring into Dmitry's eyes as they spun. She was lost in his eyes, completely trusting. Time seemed to freeze, and they stopped moving. The moment frozen in time. Suddenly, she felt herself spin out of Dmitry's arms and into Vlad's for the polka. The polka was a completely different mood, tone, and style. She found herself giggling uncontrollably as she is playfully danced across the room.

 _"My back hurts" my ass._ She thinks.

Later, Vlad revealed to Anya and Dmitry that he initially regretting letting them dance, unaware of the effect the waltz would have on their feelings for one another. However, as his two friends celebrated their wedding and danced together in the middle of the room, he took back what he said. It felt almost like déjà vu, watching Anya and Dmitry dance. They initially started off awkwardly trying to find a rhythm. However, instead of frustration and anger, their faces were etched with goofy smiles and their laughter filled the room. After a few minutes, they found their rhythm and fell into harmony. Even when everyone else joined them on the floor to dance, Vlad couldn't stop watching them. He noticed the way Dmitry leaned into Anya's ear and whispered something to her. Vlad's keen senses could make out, "You smell fantastic." Vlad chuckled softly and saw Anya do the same.

Pulling him out of his thoughts, Lily asked him, "What are you laughing at?"

Vlad only smiled and replied, "Just a fond memory of the bride and groom when they danced together for the first time. Who knew we'd end up how we are now?"

"What's meant to be, is meant to be," Lily states.


	21. I made dinner Surprise!

_**21\. "I made dinner. Surprise!"**_

Dmitry went through the door to find the apartment smothered in black smoke. The entire situation was chaotic: he couldn't see more than six feet in front of him, the smoke alarm was blaring, and he heard aggressive coughing from deeper inside the apartment.

"Anya? Anya?" Dmitry called out desperately. He used his memory to the best of his ability to find her.

"Dmitry?" cough cough, "is that you?"

"Anya?"

Dmitry felt around for the walls of the apartment but failed to look down and stubbed his toe on the corner. He yelped in pain but recovered quickly to continue his mission. When he entered the kitchen, he saw the burning pan. Reacting on instinct, he turned off the stove and threw the pan in the sink, running cold water over it.

Then he grabbed a cook book on the counter and began waving the smoke out of the apartment. Once the smoke had cleared, he saw Anya standing across the room with a concerned look.

They rushed to each other, holding onto each other's arms.

"Anya, are you okay? What happened?" the questions poured out of Dmitry's mouth.

Looking ashamed, Anya turned away from him, avoiding eye contact. She twiddled her fingers and bit her lip.

"Anya?"

"I made dinner. Surprise!" she gave an embarrassed smile, trying to lighten the mood.

"Come here," Dmitry sighed, wrapping her in his arms and kissing the top of her head, "I'm glad you're okay."

That night, Dmitry and Anya worked on clearing the remaining smoke and refreshing the smell of their apartment. For dinner, they settled on ordering food from their favorite Italian restaurant.

"Anya, what were you trying to make for dinner?"

"Um…" she paused, looking embarrassed, "steak and eggs. I thought I would surprise you to celebrate your promotion."

He wrapped one arm around her and brought her closer. "Next time, why don't we make it together?"

Glancing up at him, she gave him a look of admiration. "I'd like that."

 **Thank you for reading! Reviews are much appreciated!**

 **~Jazzy Euphonium**


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